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dzthenerd490 · 1 month

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File: ALF

SCP#: ALF

Cond Name: Alf the Alien/ The Alien. Life. Form.

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-ALF has been given unlimited access to the common areas of Site-AA, though reportedly his most favorite area to be in is the cafeteria. Foundation security is to always update observation staff at Site-AA where SCP-ALF is, even when he is clearly in camera view. SCP-ALF has been given a watch that alerts him when he is leaving the Level 1 Clearance common areas. Should SCP-ALF enter an area of Level 2 Clearance or higher he will be shocked by the watch until he backs away. This has proven the most effective deterrent as just telling him to not go does nothing since he'll probably forget.

In the event of a containment breach at Site-AA, SCP-ALF is to join Foundation staff in entering one of the nearest Cavafy Reality Concealment Safety Bunkers.

SCP-ALF is under the assumption that he is the last of his kind, he is to never be made aware the truth shows otherwise. All incoming transmissions form surviving Melmacian's is to be recorded and disrupted form reaching earth by the Telecommunications Monitoring Office's lunar satellite division.

Description: SCP-ALF is a member of Species of Interest: Melmacian's. Melmacian's are an endangered species that suffered from a nuclear disaster ending their home world. SCP-ALF was one of the only survivors of the destruction after crashlanding on earth by accident. SCP-ALF was in possession of a damaged ship and some advanced technology all of which had been confiscated by the Foundation. Though most of it was deemed unusable due to how it was all nuclear based and quite easy to malfunction and lead to nuclear meltdown. As such it was dismantled and recycled for parts.

SCP-ALF like the other Melmacian's is a small humanoid creature with black eyes, a snout like mouth, and oddly long hair on his head. He possesses an overweight body, stubbly feed with short legs, long arms with fat hands, and a completely fur covered body. SCP-ALF knows how to handle advanced technology, but his personality does not present him as very smart. SCP-ALF is very snarky and likes to crack jokes whenever he can. He also has a huge appetite being able to eat almost any kind of food presented in front of him within seconds. Though most peculiarly he claims that cats are quite similar to the cattle of his world and thus likes to eat them as well.

However, despite his fun-loving personality, SCP-ALF suffers from depression believing he is the last of his kind. To help with this SCP-ALF was not confined to a containment cell but allowed to roam freely within Site-AA. This and him interacting with Foundation staff and having lively and hilarious conversations has helped SCP-ALF in dealing with his depression and survivor's guilt. It is because of his social personality that makes most Foundation staff smile and his lack of desire to leave is why SCP-ALF is labeled as Object Class: Safe.

SCP-ALF was discovered in 1986 when he crash landed in the garage of suburban home after suddenly appearing in our solar system and being shot down by a ISSJ-4 “Crow” from Mobile Task Force Apollo-1 "Orion's Belt". The pilot claimed he showed up out of nowhere and fired at his ship thinking it was a hostile craft. SCP-ALF's location was quickly found, and the family was amnestied while he was brought into Foundation custody. After reviewing interviews and first testing logs Site Director James fell in love with his jokes and assigned him to Site-AA as a way to boost morale with staff.

It's actually thanks to SCP-ALF that Foundation staff now have access to Trofeam Molecular Conversion Consumable Stations within Cavafy Reality Concealment Safety Bunkers as he complained about it regularly. SCP-ALF is actually used regularly to show Foundation staff how common areas can be improved in relaxation and has helped other Foundation sites make things more comfortable for their staff during break time. SCP-ALF has been made aware of this and likes to joke about him being an essential asset to the Foundation. To this day no one has refuted his claims as most either don't dare ruin his joy or secretly agree with him.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

#DZtheNerd #SCP: Horror Movie Files #SCP: HMF #SCP Foundation #SCP Fanfiction #SCP AU #SCP #TV show #Sitcom #Comedy #Non Horror #SCP-ALF #Site-AA #Safe

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missjackil · 2 months

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Supernatural Battle of the Episodes!!

Looks like Red Meat burned through the rest of S11! Let's see how it does going into my 2nd favorite season!!

Let's get this party started Chuck!

Chuck: Well with Amara and Me safely tucked away in Cancun or the Belt of Orion or somewhere, we venture into Season 12 with Keep Calm and Carry On - Sam has been shot in the leg and kidnapped by BMOL Toni Bevel who cuffs him to a chair and begins the brutal, albeit sexy torture, for information on American hunters. Sam is snarky, and ridiculously sexy and won't give an inch!

Meanwhile, Dean updates Mom on what's gone on in the past 33 years, and they get Cas and begin the hunt for Sam!

#supernatural #spn #episode battle #polls #omg another one of my favs #sexiest Sam ever!

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amphiptere-art · 24 days

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I'm updating my list of characters and who's been adopted by who. And I can't for the life of me remember if Orion's belt has adopted anyone yet? Like I know I was on the start of a conversation. But I don't know if I got it finished or not. Can somebody remind me?

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pipermca · 3 months

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No update to A Matter of Propriety tonight as I haven't had any time to proof the next chapter. I also have almost caught up to my buffer.

But, have a little snippet from the start of the next chapter. :)

A cold can nudged against the side of Orion's head. "Pax. Drink this. It'll help." Orion batted away the can without looking up. His optics were on the entertainment unit, where Loudpedal was belting out some song that Orion didn't know. It was just background noise, but it was better than trying to think or engage in conversation. "I've had three already. I don't need another one." Crack. Fssssssh. The cold can nudged his face again. "Too late. It's already open. Drink it."

#am writing

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motomamisbizcochito · 1 year

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Hey how are you doing? I don't want to seam rude or anything but i was wondering if you we're gonna update North Star, orion's belt or holding back soon. I love tour stories so much ! Hope tour doing well.

Hey sorry I didn’t see your message until now. I’m eventually going to update them all. I’ve been really going through some writer’s block on those stories right now. I’m currently working on something original and that’s been taking up some time but I’m hoping I can feel inspired for them soon. I don’t have a date or anything set for updates unfortunately. You’re not rude. Don’t worry. I feel bad for taking so long to update. It’s just been really hard for me to get back into it. Thanks for checking in by the way. I wish I had a better answer to give you.

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goldenholi · 11 months

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Update: Chapter 6 - The Basement.

INDEX | my beta reader commented he personally wanted to kill atlas for what he does this chapter. so like. hope you enjoy!

Kallisto heard Atlas from far, far away. She was was accustomed to keeping an ear out for him. Judging by the extra weight in his steps, she sensed that he was ready to sour the night. With a practiced ease, she took several napkins and covered her work. When he was mad he always found a way to mess with the food (once, he had torn a leg off the chicken before it had the chance to touch the table. Another time, he clawed off a slice of cake and she had to cut it and re-frost it.)

“Did you prepare anything for Naivara?” He asked.

“I did not.”

“Let me have the kitchen.” He ushered her away. He never cooked if he could help it, so Kallisto found this display odd. He grabbed a knife and a cutting board, then hunted for something on the counter.

“So have you made up?” Kallisto asked.

“Hell no,” he said, grabbing a large orange bell pepper. With a practiced ease, he began to carve it into fine slices. Kallisto couldn’t help feeling small. The last time she saw him at a counter preparing anything for anyone, their parents had still been alive. He had been a teenager. “Where’s the skillet?” He asked.

“Why do you need it?”

“Where’s the skillet?”

She hated that. She tugged it out from the drawer and placed it on the counter. Atlas lifted the cutting board and slid the slices of pepper into the skillet in one clean motion.

“Are you going to cook it?” She asked.

“No,” he said, using the knife to arrange the slice so each and every one touched the skillets base. He grabbed a bowl and began serving the bell peppers into it. Kallisto knew better than to judge him in any way he could sense, so she stepped away and tried not to be too upset about cleaning an extra dish for no reason. “I need you to do me a favor,” he said. “Go give this to Naivara.”

Kallisto stared at him in disbelief. He offered the bowl to her and she held it, but she couldn’t just go.

“You’re...giving her food that will blister her.”

“I know,” he said. “Listen, the situation is complicated.” He glanced to check if Skipper or Orion were near, then leaned in quietly. “We’ve been robbed. It’s her fault. I’m trying to line things up so she doesn’t cause a scene and we can fix things without the whole town knowing something went wrong. It’s for one night. Just one.”

“We got robbed?” Kallisto whispered. “Everything,” he said. “Everything in the basement is gone. That project we talked about? Gone. It’s all gone. We have to start from scratch and it’s her fault.” Kallisto felt her heart twist. After their parents died, the apartment emptied out. Everything she could pawn was exchanged for coin. She didn’t like things being taken, didn’t like losing things in general. Hatred crept up her throat. “I got her in the basement right now,” Atlas said. “I’m organizing something to make sure she never makes a mistake like this again. That involves keeping her quiet, least for tonight. So can you just...give her this? Please.”

Please. What a rare word. She nodded without thinking.

And then Atlas left her holding a bowl of tainted bell peppers.

And she went downstairs.

And she stepped outside, and found a basement locked shut with a belt. She unbuckled it and heard the creak of the stairs.

“Kallisto?” Naivara called. “Are you going to let me out?”

“I’m just bringing you something to eat,” she said. “Hopefully Atlas calms down soon. I don’t think you’ll be down there too long.”

“You think so?” Naivara asked.

“Yeah,” Kallisto said. “It’s temporary. It has to be. You know how he gets.”

“Is he actually gonna do it?” She asked. Kallisto opened up a door and slid the bowl onto the highest step, shutting it sharply.

“Do what?” Kallisto asked.

“Make me go into the forest.” Kallisto raised her eyebrows.

“Why would he do that?”

“He…” Naivara paused. “Do...you know what we’re doing, Kallisto?”

“Not really. If Atlas doesn’t want me knowing, that’s how I’d prefer to keep it.” She buckled it back up, making it tight as possible.

“Is he going to do it?” Naivara asked. “Is he just psyching me out? Is this just a test?”

“I don’t know, Naivara. I don’t know. You should eat instead of letting the nerves get the best of you.”

For a moment all Kallisto heard was crickets. The distant hum of mosquitos. The delicate crackle of palms flittering in the breeze. When she heard the quiet crunch of chewing, she left without a word.

ATLAS

Savan pissed him off. Just looking at the man was enough to light a fire in Atlas’ stomach. He stood outside Room 4 and prepared himself. Naivara is sick and she is staying upstairs. Naivara is sick. She’s going to be staying upstairs with me. Naivara and sick and Kallisto will be taking care of her upstairs.

He opened the door and paused at the sight of Mason. Eating. With Naivara’s father. The fellow waved as if he belonged there. Savan glowered at him the way he always did.

“Savan,” Atlas greeted. “Naivara’s sick. She’s upstairs, Kallisto is taking care of her.”

“Sick?” Savan asked. “How?”

“She’s got a fever,” Atlas said. “She’s burning up.”

“How could that be? She was fine earlier?” Savan said. “She was fine. How could she get sick? She doesn’t...she...how?”

“Sometimes people get sick.”

“She’s an elf,” Savan said. “She’s delicate, elves aren’t hardy as me or you. You can’t take your eyes off her. She needs Treasure, you need to get Treasure and have her help Naivara, she needs someone there who can make sure she doesn’t get worse, who knows the signs-”

“Savan,” Atlas said. “I will do that.”

“Can I visit?” Savan asked. “I need to see her.”

“No,” Atlas said. “You need to heal.”

“He’s right, Mr. Goldenholi,” Mason said. “You can’t get up. You need rest.”

“Well, uh...a note!” Savan suggested. “I’ll write her a note, I just need some way to talk to her, anything-”

“She’s barely awake,” Atlas said.

“What are you doing here?!” Savan asked. “Go get Treasure!”

Atlas left, thanking the stars for paternal panic. Mason frowned, his face pulled tight.

“She didn’t look sick at all,” Mason said.

“Could you check on her?” Savan asked. “Please?”

“Sure, sure,” Mason said. “I’ll go ask.” He left and chased after Atlas, who was already halfway up the staircase. “Atlas, uh, would it be possible to see Naivara? I can heal I might come in handy-”

“No,” Atlas said. “You can’t visit her. You aren’t a local, you’ll catch whatever she has and then keel over and die.”

“I just thought I might be helpful-”

“The answer is no,” Atlas said. “Things have been busy but if you want to be helpful, tomorrow we can discuss a paid opportunity for you. Right now I need to go tend to Naivara.” He continued upstairs. Mason watched in quiet disbelief.

“When did you notice she was sick?” Mason asked.

“In the tavern.”

“How? What were her symptoms?”

“She was red,” Atlas said. “So red she made a ruby look pink. I brought her up immediately.”

“Why was she in the tavern?” “She wanted to eat something.”

A lie. A bold-faced lie, because Naivara had gone downstairs with food. Unless she wanted to eat by herself. Mason wasn’t sure what happened for that brief period he was gone, but the soft, solemn Naivara disappeared when he returned. There was defensive edge. A quiet anger. He didn’t know what to do or say, and Mr. Goldenholi chose not to acknowledge her removing herself. He had sighed and moved on, poking at his plate. Mason’s head throbbed at the thought of some hidden truth that sullied the dynamic he had imagined so sweet. He watched Atlas disappear from view, frowning.

Downstairs, he found the barkeep and asked if Atlas had gone upstairs with Naivara. He said, “Mind your own.” Then he asked a patron if they had seen Atlas go upstairs with a woman and he said “We don’t talk about that.” He asked a drunk if Atlas took a brunette upstairs and they said “He prefers blondes,” before bursting into laughter. Mason didn’t consider cheating a knee-slapper but to each their own. An open secret. How ugly.

Mason stepped into the backyard for some fresh air, relishing the cool of the night. The moon was full and bright, granting the blossoms against the fence delicate halos. A little lunar kiss. How lovely. He descended the porch and felt a crunch under his foot. He glanced down and saw a splintered skewer beneath his heel. So she came out here. He looked toward the basement and saw a belt cinching the doors shut. It began to pulse, as though something were shoving against it. He approached quietly, crouching down. He tried to peer through into the basement but it was very, very dark. He heard shuddering breathing.

“What are you doing?” He jolted to his feet, plastering a grin over his face.

“Hey,” he said. “Hi. How are you?”

Kallisto raised an eyebrow.

“You’re snooping.”

“I wanted some air,” he said. “And I noticed there’s something in the basement.”

“After the bloom we have a lot of critters come over the perimeter,” she said. “The butterflies attract them. One of them got into the basement. We’re keeping it locked down there for the time being.”

“Oh could I take a peek?”

“No,” Kallisto said. “That’s unsafe. Why don’t you go back upstairs?”

Mason’s smile faltered. Call it a hunch, he wanted down there.

“Alright,” he said. “But uh…” He snapped a flower off the fence. “Yeah. No, I get it. Hey, uh…these are some nice flowers. What are they called?”

“Sambac.”

“They smell divine,” he said. “And they are beautiful. Especially on a night like this. They should really be appreciated.” He paused for a moment, twisting the stem between his fingers. A faint shimmer settled upon the petals. “Back home, we take flowers like these and tell them secrets. People say it’s good for the plants.”

“That’s silly,” Kallisto said. He snapped another off, made a show of comparing the two he held, and tossed one over his shoulder. Toward the basement.

“I think it’s nice,” he said. “Something something people are good, actually. What harm does it do to talk to a flower. But that’s just me. It always made me feel better. Oh, that reminds me, I’m searching for a mirror. Do you know where I could find one?”

“A mirror?” Kallisto asked, incredulous. “Didn’t take you for the vain type.”

“I’m not on the road anymore,” he said. “Is it so bad to want to know how I’m looking?”

“You look fine. I’m sure many a girl will swoon at the sight of you, should you ever leave the Grove. Do you plan to stay holed up with Mr. Goldenholi, Mason?” Her tone was light but cold. He nodded. “Well I hope you’re good company. Since Naivara is sick I’ll be the one tending to him, for the most part.”

“Oh. Well, that’s nice of you.” Her expression was flat. He cleared his throat. “Anyway,” he said. “The mirror. Do you have a mirror I could borrow?”

“I think I do. Follow me.”

He followed her, gently tucking the flower into his pocket.

The burn began in her stomach. It crept into her throat, violated her tongue, and made the smooth wet of her mouth a hostile, unkind place. A place where she had to prevent her teeth from touching, a place where her tongue was flexed, hovering. Because the moment it ran over flesh, a burst of heat stung her whole mouth. Even grazing her teeth against her lip sent an arc of pain through her flesh. And she was thirsty, which made it all worse because licking at the wounds just made the pain rawer and hotter.

She leaned up against the door, glowering flatly at the darkness beyond. At the fireflies twitching in the dark. At the faintest indication of the moon. At the flower waiting for her.

The gate opened. Naivara spotted several figures approaching, not-quite visible. A massive figure leaned forward and began undoing the makeshift lock. Naivara hurried down the stairs and retreated where the moonlight couldn’t reach.

“Naivara,” Atlas called, slipping in once the doors opened. “Why don’t you come on out. We’re going to have a talk with some friends.” She crept under the raised beds and hid between the legs. If she was doomed, she may as well make his life harder. “Naivara.” He walked around the basement. His shoes were murky now, dusted with dirt. “Naivara. Naivara?” Another set of shoes trailed behind him. These were richly colored boots, though the heel and toes were scuffed and faded.

“Maybe she got out.” Skipper.

“She’s in here,” Atlas said with finality. A massive, leathery, and rough set of boots stepped into view. “Naivara,” Atlas called. “Come out. Come on.” He wandered. He approached the different areas of the basement. He turned, the toes of his shoes facing her. He crouched and met her gaze. “What are you?” He asked. “A cat?”

Naivara scrambled backwards. Her back collided with a set of legs. Then she was pulled up to her feet, Huxley clutching at her arm tightly. Atlas stood across from her, shaking his head.

“This is what I live with,” he said, circling around to approach them. “That’s not even half of it. Look at what she did.” He gestured to the empty shelves and clipped sprouts. “It’s all gone. All our efforts. Gone.”

She opened her mouth but the air made her blisters sting. She shut her mouth and gave up, trying to shove her way out of Huxley’s hold.

“You can let her go.” Huxley released her. She scurried away from Atlas but bumped right into Skipper, who stared at the scene in dismay.

“It’s all gone?” She asked.

“All of it.”

“Great work,” Skipper said, clapping. “Great fucking work, everyone!” Naivara shrank in on herself.

“Shut up, Skipper.” Mallory was here. On the stairwell, but there. He was seated, hunched over, glowering down at the whole scene. Huxley gravitated toward him, silent.

“Oh, can it,” she spat. “All that work was for nothing.”

“Are we all in agreement that Naivara should be held responsible for her actions?” Atlas asked. Skipper nodded. Huxley nodded. Naivara withered.

“Great. I’m thinking you all show her exactly what you went through to get these components. How about that?”

“I’m all for it,” Skipper said. Mallory and Huxley were still and silent.

“Wonderful. Huxley, watch Naivara. I need to talk to these two outside for a second.”

Outside, Mallory felt a great heat burning deep in his stomach. He didn’t cross paths with Naivara much but she was just a girl. A girl with a blistered mouth on the verge of fainting.

“You shouldn’t do this,” Mallory said. “She’s going to get hurt.”

“Look…” Atlas lowered his voice. “It will only be a day. Two, at most. You can bring her back after the first night. I can figure out getting components back but what I need, what we need, is Naivara to recognize how important and hard what we do is. A night in the forest will knock some sense into her.”

“So it’s all fake?” Skipper asked. “Did you actually get robbed?”

“We were robbed. I don’t expect her to actually fine components in the forest.”

“Moon,” Skipper said. “Give me strength.”

“Why should we do this?” Mallory asked. “It’s a waste of time. It’s a dangerous scare tactic.”

“Because I have twenty gold with your names on it.”

Twenty. Oh, the night went still. Twenty. Twenty could go far. Twenty could give Clarice months of work off, and Felix new toys, and it could renovate Sistine’s. Twenty was no small feat.

“Each?” Mallory asked. Atlas nodded.

“I’ll do it,” Skipper said. “I’m in. Twenty goes a long way these days.”

“It’s dangerous out there.”

“One day won’t kill anyone. You’ll bring her right back. It’s easy money, Mallory.” He resented the thought of taking money from Atlas to punish a scared, hurting girl. That was gross. It was unkind. Mallory thought of her father, two stories above, recovering from a wolf bite. His daughter venturing into the ugly, endless pit of green that was the forest.

“It’s wrong.”

“You want to know what’s wrong,” Atlas said. “All your hard work being sabotaged because she couldn’t take it seriously. All the people we couldn’t help, because of her. If you do this, she’ll learn her lesson and the whole town will be better off. Come on, Mallory. There’s no two ways about it. And it’s just a day, maybe two. You won’t get far enough to warrant being pelted by climbers, much less tempt direwolves. Come on, Mallory. It’s not like anyone is getting hurt.”

I think it’s disgusting you don’t regard her as anyone, Mallory thought.

“If you don’t go, she’ll be in a worse position. You could be the difference between something going wrong and something horribly. It’s just one day. It’s just one long hike.”

Just one day. Twenty gold. Clarice. Felix. Just one long hike and one hurt girl.

Mallory did the math and decided twenty gold wasn’t such a bad deal after all.

Skipper dressed Naivara up. The clothes actually fit and the armor was snug. Atlas was gone, probably upstairs, lying to her father. Huxley was outside, smoking. She smelled the cigarette, thick and heavy. Mallory was absent entirely.

“Alright,” Skipper said. “You’re set. Just one last thing…” She threw a cloak over Naivara, tugging the hood up and over. “Don’t want a scandal on our hands, du wi?” Naivara was too tired to fight it. Skipper tugged the hood off. Then she began to tug Naivara’s hair back. She managed to wrangle it into a thick braid, tying it with a scrap of ribbon. “There,” Skipper said, lifting the hood over her head. “Better?” Naivara didn’t bother acknowledging it, even though it did feel better. One small kindness didn’t erase the reality that she was part of this awful exercise in punishment.

The doors opened and she caught a glimpse of the sky. Dawn. A precious, delicate blue tinged with lilac. No clouds. Today would be a good day. As she crept out of the basement, she snatched the flower from the ground. She held it beneath her cloak, stroking the soft petals as Skipper and Huxley guided her out of the yard, down the street, toward Eastgate. Mallory was already there. He held a small twist-tube of white paste. Naivara thought it odd, because she had only ever seen those twist-tubes inside Treasure’s. He had three dots along each cheek and immediately applied three dots to Skipper, who didn’t flinch, then Huxley, who had to bend down. And then he approached her.

He looked guilty. Naivara wanted to grab him by the neck and shake him. Sink her nails and make that guilt turn into something she would prefer to see. She didn’t know what she would prefer to see but she presumed it was something along the lines of fear. Respect. Not this putrid, ugly guilt and pity that made her feel small.

He dotted her cheeks. It felt like a cold balm. She instinctively reached up to smudge it and he grabbed her wrists, shaking his head.

“It’s protection,” he said. “It’s what my clan does. Don’t touch it. It will keep you safe.”

Naivara severely doubted that.

The gate opened. A few feet stood between herself and endless roiling green. She shut her eyes and sent a prayer: Let me see my father again.

And then Skipper, Mallory, and Huxley dragged her into the unknown.

#writeblr #writing #creative writing

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apollos-boyfriend · 7 months

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orion’s belt chapter 2 progress update

#icarus speaks #writing him is sooooooo #every disease on this bitch. genuinely

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1200flowers · 2 years

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this iced chai latte with oat milk will fix me. daydreaming about phd programs will fix me. this book about friends falling in love will fix me. obsessively updating my google calendar will fix me. leaving the city and breathing clean air for a few days will fix me. finding orion’s belt will fix me. punching god in the L train stairwell at 1st ave will fix me. burying his teeth in the community garden will f

#pp #mine #trying all of these in one day and seeing if i’m Normal afterwards

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ramtracking · 14 days

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Calling all aspiring astronomers: A new observatory has just opened near Smith Rock State Park [ Astronomer ]

Calling all aspiring astronomers: A new observatory has just opened near Smith Rock State Park [News Summary] (Update: Adding video, comments from astronomer). TERREBONNE, Ore. (KTVZ) — A new observatory, part of The Spot at Smith Rock, has opened… TERREBONNE, Ore. (KTVZ)– A new observatory, part of The Spot at Smith Rock, has opened. Visitors can see the Milky Way, Orion’s Belt and… TERREBONNE,…

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firstprince-ao3feed · 3 months

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Orion's Belt

Orion's Belt https://ift.tt/2cqs8T6 by coldbrewreaper Rio, Waterloo Closet, Phone Calls, Texts, New Years, PM Dinner & Waterloo Letters: All from Henry's POV. Updated bi-daily! Words: 893, Chapters: 1/8, Language: English Series: Part 17 of History, Huh? (CBR's RWRB Works) Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Alex Claremont-Diaz, Beatrice Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Percy "Pez" Okonjo, Shaan Srivastava, David the Beagle (Red White & Royal Blue) Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: henry's pov, Canonical Character Death, Anxiety Disorder, Poetic, Henry is a hopeless romantic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added via AO3 works tagged 'Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor' https://ift.tt/3uAHazF January 21, 2024 at 02:10PM

#IFTTT #ao3feed #red white and royal blue #rwrb #firstprince #coldbrewreaper

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dzthenerd490 · 11 months

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File: Critters

SCP#: AAT

Code Name: The Crites, the Galactic Criminal Vermin

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-AAT instances are contained within 30x30 meter pen at Site-AG. The only way in and out is through an opening at the celling where none of the Instances can reach. They are to be feed a single cow every day as feeding them any more will allow them to grow bigger. Four 360-degree cameras are placed in the four corners of the containment cell to prevent any blind spots from existing that SCP-AAT instances can take advantage of. Hidden in the ceiling are two laser turrets, utilized to cull the population of SCP-AAT instances should they start to flood the containment pen.

In the event of a Containment Breach, on site observation staff are to update site security of SCP-AAT’s status. If they show any signs of breaking out, a single Kallivantium explosive is to be dropped and detonated within the containment cell. Security staff and observation staff are to ensure that SCP-AAT instances are all either captured for later containment or killed if necessary.

Description: SCP-AAT is a species of aliens that are the same size as porcupines but are much viler in nature. Each instance has two feet, two claws, a beast like face with red eyes, and three to four rows of vicious teeth. Their bodies average anywhere between 18 to 24 centimeters in height and are quite physically strong in spite of their size. Each instance can pin a grown man down and begin ripping his flesh apart in a matter of seconds. Despite their savage behavior and appearance, they are actually quite intelligent. They are also extremely curious and often make bad decisions due to ignorance rather than stupidity.

SCP-AAT instances are able to roll into balls and travel at a speed of 12 mph, being able to perceive everything around them, ensuring perfect mobility when rolling. SCP-AAT instances do lack mobility in all other aspects but have sharp quills that grow along their spine which they can shoot out as projectile weapons. Furthermore, these quills have a paralysis venom that can either weaken or completely knock out prey. When a SCP-AAT instance eats enough or has lived long enough it will start to grow to be 4-6 feet tall. They are still able to roll into balls at this size but due to their walking speed improving they normally don't. Instead, they become more accustomed to their newfound strength and use it to kill and eat prey. It should be noted that despite their various strengths and killing methods, they are quite fragile and can be killed with even simple firearms.

SCP-AAT was discovered in 1986 when Foundation staff on the moon noticed two ships entering our solar system with earth in their trajectory. Both ships were intercepted by Mobile Task Force Apollo-1 "Orion's Belt". The ships halted when intercepted by an LSFSB-29 "Sanctuary" ship known as the SCPSS: Space Eagle. A fleet of RFDJ-5 “Vultures” surrounded both ships, forcing them to enter the landing dock within the SCPSS: Space Eagle. This unfortunately led to chaos as the SCP-AAT instances ran out of the ship and started attacking Foundation security able to easily tear through their armor. The loading dock had to be put on lock down though it didn’t last long thanks to the Alien Bounty Hunters on the other ship. They were named Lee and Ug and killed off half of the SCP-AAT instances forcing the others back into their own ship.

The remaining SCP-AAT instances were smart enough to surrender, allowing the Foundation to contain them with ease. Unforutantely Lee and Ug were not please as they were hired to kill all SCP-AAT instances, and their employer would know if they failed. To get them to give up on SCP-AAT they were paid with [data expunged] which is a common currency used in the [data expunged] district of the Milky Way Galaxy. Though because of their contribution Lee and Ug were offered positions within the Foundation as an alternative to payment and as per directive under the protocol "Sole Survivor". However, both refused and instead took the [data expunged] as payment.

"It honestly sucks that they refused, shapeshifting aliens would be invaluable to the Foundation, no offence to our other alien staff. Still though, it does feel weird to not amnestize someone who refused the 'Sole Survivor' protocol. But they weren't on earth, and they were from the [data expunged] district, which everyone in that part of the milky way knows about the Foundation anyways. So they simply didn't apply to the common jurisdiction. Either way I'm just glad we managed to get SCP-AAT before it hit earth, there have been too many SCP's that have managed to slip past MTF Apollo-1." -Dr. Malik.

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